


i'm always right, you can ask my husband

by mozartspiano



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: American AU, M/M, eric and tami taylor au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:22:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26409427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mozartspiano/pseuds/mozartspiano
Summary: august is long shadows out on the field, goalposts yawning and stretching to cover trimmed green and white with long limbs. august is a line of sweat growing under kyle's hat, pulled low over his eyes so he doesn't have to squint as the boys run past him.friday night lights au
Relationships: Kyle Dubas/William Nylander
Comments: 5
Kudos: 43





	i'm always right, you can ask my husband

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mrsbarlow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrsbarlow/gifts).



> the happiest of birthdays to g

i. august

august is long shadows out on the field, goalposts yawning and stretching to cover trimmed green and white with long limbs. august is a line of sweat growing under kyle's hat, pulled low over his eyes so he doesn't have to squint as the boys run past him. august is this, too, as kyle climbs into his truck after practice, turns the dial and - 

_ -the problem is that coach dubas lives in a fairytale world. i mean it, sam. the guy has totally lost his mind. putting samuels on as a wide receiver? this clown is gonna be fired before thanksgiving -  _

august is in the pinks of the sky as kyle pulls into the driveway. he drags a hand over his eyes, adjusts his hat, and grabs the groceries before heading into the house.

"babe?" william calls. "is that you?"

they're out on the deck in the backyard. kyle opens the screen door to see them, william in one of kyle's old brock shirts, juniper in his lap, chewing on her stuffed rabbit. 

"hello baby," kyle says, leaning to kiss william's offered cheek. he stoops further, "and baby," to press his lips against the soft crown of juniper's head.

"how was practice?"

juniper makes grabby hands and kyle swings her into his arms. she's small still. she still likes to cuddle into his neck. everyone keeps telling them she'll grow out of it. she smells perfect, pink and soft, and her little baby gurgles make everything in kyle's stomach twist up, uncomplicated.

"it was practice," kyle says. he lets juniper smudge her hands over his glasses. "too damn hot on that field."

"that's the optimistic man i married," william says, standing up. he reaches out to rub one of juniper's feet and her little baby leg kicks excitedly, body wiggling against kyle.

"sorry. i'm grumbling."

"you're allowed."

"how was your day?"

william shrugs. "not very glamorous. we met a puppy today at the post office though, didn't we june? didn't we? wasn't that something."

juniper smiles at william. william smiles back. kyle feels august creep into his chest, heavy air and sweet sunshine. william's hair has turned into corn silk in this heat. there are small red freckles between his eyebrows and along the crest of his ears, over his arms and the soft skin of his shoulders. 

kyle tugs on the brock coat of arms until william's mouth presses against his, pink on pink. william's eyelashes, light at the end, brush at kyle's before he pulls away.

"i took pork chops out for dinner," he says, sweet, and kyle sighs. 

august is waking up in mustard yellow sheets and falling asleep in them too, william curled up despite the heat from the open window, fingers lined up with kyle's ribs. 

ii. september

the leaves in the yard of the church's yew trees have turned golden around the edges, curling up toward the sun. it's still hot in west texas, the back and side doors to the church thrown open so if kyle leans to the left he can see a breeze skirting its way through the parking lot. 

next to him in the pew william sneezes. 

"bless you," kyle whispers. 

william's nose goes pink against the kleenex. he's politely listening to the preacher at the front of the room. the preacher's wife, sandra, made a point of asking william for his availability for the next church bake sale though, so kyle knows that william is thinking less about the lessons learned in the story of jesus cursing the fig tree and more about how many rice krispie treats he's going to have to make by tuesday night. 

juniper, thankfully, is asleep on kyle's shoulder. her perfect baby fingers are curled around his thumb. the sun cuts through the stained glass windows, painting her face in reds and golds.

"mrs. sue-ellen barner has been making hand gestures at me from the second row for half of the service," william says, as the congregation stands to leave, "and if i'm not back in seven minutes you have to promise you'll come over and save me." 

kyle watches him go. william would be perfect for any life he chose, would fit into it like a second skin, without seams or fuss. kyle watches his white smile and easy gait. 

"coach," comes a voice behind him and oh god. 

kyle gets outside eventually, fending off unsolicited advice for the panthers' season from round sunday christians and their big sunday hats. kids are playing football in the yard and he watches them while juniper chews on her pacifier. 

"excuse me ladies," he says, when he's found william, in a pack of pta hyena moms. he tugs gently on his arm. "baby needs feeding."

"oh she is a darling."

"adorable!"

"i'll see you wednesday for book club!" william calls, before following kyle away to their car. "took you long enough. lord those women can talk. on the bright side i have all the gossip about kelly's divorce."

"really? seems like a nasty one."

"you will not  _ believe _ kyle-"

"coach?"

it's abraham, his quarterback. he's a skinny kid with a deceptively straight shooting arm, a quick mind, and a wry smile. his suit makes him look all of his fifteen years. 

"what can i do for you, bud?"

"my grandmother is visiting our family this week and she wanted to meet you," he says and william's already reaching for juniper. 

"i'll start the car, kyle, you go with abraham-"

"she wants to meet you too, mr. - um. mr. coach."

william laughs, loud, and kyle finds himself laughing too. abraham's brown skin flushes over the bridge of his nose. 

"well then lets meet her," he says, sweet, one of his hands curling around the bend of kyle's elbow.

  
  


iii. october

the panthers are 5-1 in the first week of october which means kyle gets to spend a saturday morning not watching sixteen year olds run drills up and down the bleacher steps. william wakes him up with cold fingers on his belly and tickling whispers at his ear.

"what?" he asks, nose scrunched, pulling their sheets above his head. 

"there's an apple orchard thirty miles from here," he says, sweet pink mouth leaving marks as he makes kyle's ear his own. "i looked it up and they open at ten which means if we get a hustle on, we can be there just as the gates open."

"william."

"kyle."

"it's my day off."

william pulls back. his eyes are the same colour blue as kyle imagines billionaire's pools are and probably the water in the maldives and also the sky in heaven. they look decidedly unimpressed. his mouth pouts because the nylanders were all born with an inability to live, even for a second, in a universe where they don't get their way.

"okay." kyle says. "okay okay okay. fine."

"i love you baby," william says, kissing all over kyle's face. 

it takes them longer than that to get ready because they have to eat and feed juniper and change juniper's diaper and get juniper in the forest green pinafore dress kyle's grandmother made for her and kyle has to pee twice because coffee goes right through him. they're on the road by nine fifty seven and william fiddles with the radio.

"all the good apples will be gone," he says, bratty. he laughs when kyle sighs.

the orchard is filled with red and pinks, gracious greens and generous oranges. there are hay rides and a small patch of pumpkins and william crouches down next to juniper's stroller to point out everything to her, which she listens to in her mild mannered nature. 

they get two hot apple ciders and wander the small farm area. there's a wooden cutout of a cow in a cowboy hat, and william asks an elderly couple to take a photo of the three of them, kyle's arm around william's shoulders, juniper's face mostly obscured by her sun hat. 

"we'll make a pie," william says, face up against the rough jean of kyle's jacket as they head into the rows of the orchard. "and i'll get store bought pastry because i can't be fucking bothered to spend our saturday making crust."

kyle laughs. 

there's a version of himself, in another world, who isn't here. who isn't tucking his sleeping daughter into her carseat in a field parking lot in the middle of texas. who doesn't check over both his shoulders before nudging william up against the car door, kissing the grin from his mouth and pressing their hips together like they're teenagers after midnight. 

william's hand cups kyle's face, thumb brushing under his eyes. "darling," he says, not quite teasing but sweet, eyes like the sky waking up. 

iv. november

juniper catches a bug at the beginning of the month and spends a week coughing and crying. william stays up with her until he's stumbling, the two of them tender and sore with exhaustion. they get better as the weather gets cooler, the fireplace crackling as william naps in kyle's lap, game film disregarded as he watches the way his fingers stroke through william's hair instead.

the week before thanksgiving they make the playoffs.

there's a party at the applebee's on the town's main strip. the local radio show is hosting right at the bar and they drag kyle away to chat with him about the last game against laraby, what he thinks their chances are in the first round, and whether he thinks chris "crash" thompkins is the best running back to ever play the game. 

"it was a great game yesterday," kyle says, smiling, feeling his accent go more soo around the edges than intended. "and it'll be a great fight tomorrow. but tonight i'm going to eat my weight in chicken tenders."

william is alone with a glass of chardonnay in their booth when he gets back. he's smiling at kyle's antics, at the lipstick on his cheek from the aging mayor of town when she embraced him in joy. 

"this town loves you."

"right now they do," he says, wiping at his face with a napkin. he steals a fry off of william's plate. "they won't if we lose in the first round."

"ah," william says, casual, like he's always been. he waves one hand. "that's for future us to worry about."

they get home just after eleven. stephanie, their sixteen year old babysitter, is asleep on the sofa while reruns of the office play on the television. william wakes her up gently while kyle checks on juniper.

she's asleep on her back, one hand clutching the ear of her rabbit plushie.

kyle walks stephanie back to her house, three doors down from theirs. it's cool out, dark, no stars because of the clouds that criss cross heavy over the sky. william is sitting on the front porch steps when he gets back, the baby monitor next to him. he's holding a mug.

"tea?"

"hot chocolate," he says, grinning. 

kyle sits next to him. william's head comes to rest on his shoulder. 

"you know," william says, after the silence has nestled them in close. "when i said i would follow you to the ends of the earth, i didn't know that would mean a tiny little town in texas. but i'm sort of glad. i like it here"

"me too."

will holds out his mug and kyle takes a sip. it's just the stuff from the grocery store, powder from a can, but it tastes magical.

v. december 

"next, all passengers travelling with young children, please line up at gate 1 to begin boarding."

"that's us, sugar plum," william says, holding juniper's hand. she's strapped onto his chest, blinking sleepily at the bustle of fort worth airport. "that's you, me, and daddy. isn't it? yes it is."

the plane is stuffy and overcrowded with people like them, flying home for the holidays. william sets up juniper's blanket over his legs and cuddles her up close. she watches everyone pass their seats with mild interest. every person that sees her transforms, gloomy boarding faces to happy smiles, as she looks pleasantly up at them.

"we have one hecking cute kid," william says, smoothing his hand over her chestnut baby curls. 

"we sure do."

kyle leans his head against the little pillow rest of the seat. his limbs are tired, his face, his muscles, his bones, everything exhausted like he's been wading through waist high mud. 

he keeps running it back through his head even though he knows it's no good. the yells of the fans behind him, the sound of cleats on perfect turf, the echoing of a kick as it missed the goal posts by inches - 

"doesn't that guy look like idris elba?" william says, quiet, in kyle's ear. he's pointing to a man one up and across the aisle from them.

"huh." kyle cranes his neck to see a bit better. "a bit, yeah."

"you should ask him for an autograph."

"why would idris elba be on a flight to toronto from dallas in the economy section?" kyle asks and willy shrugs and says, "i don't know, i'm not his keeper. ask him if you're so curious."

kyle laughs and laughs. william beams, proud. even juniper looks at them both with her mouth half open, like she wants to be in on the joke too.

he tickles his fingers under her chin and she shrieks into a giggle. 

"always next year," kyle says, softly, and william smiles.

"always," he says, and kyle stops thinking about football and small towns and pride and expectations and just thinks about his family, the one he's flying to and the one he's flying with, two seats and a baby, william's hand soft in his.

  
  



End file.
